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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26349811">A Violet I Plucked</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClydeThistles/pseuds/ClydeThistles'>ClydeThistles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Victorian Music Hall AU - Yennaia [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Music Hall, Tipping the Velvet vibes, Yennaia, topping a top</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:35:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,763</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26349811</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClydeThistles/pseuds/ClydeThistles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to 'A Little of What You Fancy'. Tissaia tends to Yennefer's needs.</p><p>"Only a violet I plucked when a boy, and oft' times when I'm sad at heart, this flower has given me joy."<br/>-1881-</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Victorian Music Hall AU - Yennaia [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905364</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Violet I Plucked</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tissaia slides Yennefer’s braces down her shoulders and undoes the studs on her shirt, pulling it from her slowly. She is eager to have Yennefer but her methodical nature, and the delicious languid glow she is still basking in, makes her decide to undress the woman at a leisurely pace. When the shirt is pulled free from the trouser waistband, Tissaia lays it neatly over a chairback then hovers her fingers over the binding round Yennefer’s chest,</p><p>“May I see you?”</p><p>Yennefer nods and reaches to remove it but Tissaia stops her, “No, let me.” She lifts Yennefer’s hands and places them on her shoulders, “Keep them there.”</p><p>Yennefer’s fingers caress the silk brocade of Tissaia’s gown still covering her shoulders although the bodice is half-open from earlier, Tissaia’s cleavage just visible above the cotton of her chemise and bones of her corset, straining a little as she works. She eases the tucked-in edge of the binding free and unwinds it, passing the roll from one hand to the other, reaching round Yennefer’s back, her breath ghosting over the woman’s collarbones as she leans in. When the last wrap falls away, Tissaia sighs in admiration, eyes raking over Yennefer’s breasts. She runs the back of her fingers down Yennefer’s décolletage to the swell of her bosom and round her nipples to cup her in both hands. Yennefer bites back a moan and Tissaia squeezes harder,</p><p>“No, let me hear you. Don’t turn into a shrinking violet just because there’s no audience, I expect a show, my dear.”</p><p>Yennefer flushes but retorts, “I don’t sing for nothing, you’ll need to make it worth my while.”</p><p>Tissaia’s eyes gleam and she nudges Yennefer backwards to the chair she had sat on that first night they met. When the seat hits the back of Yennefer's knees, Tissaia reaches up and winds her hands in her short hair, still damp from earlier, and tugs backwards to make Yennefer sit. Then she steps back and unpins her chignon, removes the combs holding her waves in place and lets her long, dark hair tumble around her face. Yennefer sits forward, sighing longingly but Tissaia throws her a sharp look,</p><p>“If you move, I will tie you to that chair with my stockings.”</p><p>Yennefer smirks, “You wouldn’t risk ruining such fine ones, I’ve seen what’s under those skirts of yours and it isn’t cheap.”</p><p>Her smirk fades as Tissaia arches her eyebrows and lifts her hem to reveal black silk stockings with lacy tops and unclips them from her garter belt before rolling them slowly off her feet. Yennefer shuffles nervously and prepares to stand up, to take back control of proceedings but Tissaia grips her chin gently between thumb and forefinger,</p><p>“Allow me this.” She smiles softly to reassure Yennefer she is not throwing her words back at her to be spiteful, “My pleasure is to watch you in yours.”</p><p>Yennefer nods and leans back in the chair, holding her wrists out expectantly. Tissaia smiles deviously and pulls them apart then down to grip the back legs of the chair,</p><p>“Let’s put those long limbs to use, shall we? Stretch for me, my sweet, that’s it.” She binds Yennefer’s wrists to the chair-legs with the stockings, pulling tight but checking it is not too restrictive, “Can you bear it? I would not cause you discomfort.”</p><p>Yennefer just nods, her eyes closed, and head tilted back as she tries to control her breathing. Tissaia urges, “Look at me.”</p><p>Yennefer does and strains against the stockings as Tissaia undoes the remaining clasps on her bodice, unbuttons the cuffs and pulls it from her torso. She would not usually wear a front-lacing corset, only whores and paupers do so, but Tissaia is now very glad that she is dressed this way as it means she can undo herself without Yennefer’s assistance. Yennefer manages to smirk despite being tied up,</p><p>“You cannot deny you dressed this morning with the express purpose of coming here tonight. The drawers a coincedence perhaps, but this? I’m surprised you even own such a garment.”</p><p>“Some days I prefer not to wait for my maid to arrive before I can dress. You have no objections, I trust? Or would you rather I kept it on?”</p><p>Yennefer’s eyes widen and her mouth hangs open because Tissaia is not teasing with the threat of remaining clothed. She is genuinely asking Yennefer how she wants her, curious as to her preferences. And it is making heat pool in Yennefer’s abdomen, this frank discussion of intimate machinations that she would never have imagined the decorous watch-maker capable of. Tissaia is still waiting for a response so Yennefer croaks,</p><p>“Would you loosen it a little but leave it on? I…” She flushes but soldiers on, “I enjoy seeing the strain against the fabric.”</p><p>Tissaia smiles, “As you wish.” And proceeds to unlace the first few eyelets, loosening just enough for her breasts to <em>almost </em>spill out but not quite. She also undoes the tie on the neck of her chemise and pulls it aside, so nothing is hidden from Yennefer’s eyes then hitches her skirts a little and kneels gracefully between Yennefer’s knees,</p><p>“Does this please you?”</p><p>Yennefer husks, “God, yes! You are perfection, unrivalled, unmatched-aaah!”</p><p>Her stream of adjectives turns into a gasp as Tissaia presses her palm in between her thighs without warning. The older woman hums,</p><p>“I had not realised your costume was true to life in every detail.”</p><p>Yennefer trembles, gasping and arching forward as Tissaia’s fingers make quick work of the buttons at her fly and reach in to grasp hold of the rolled-up handkerchief that nestles in between her thighs. Yennefer stutters,</p><p>“The trousers do not hang correctly without-” Her explanation tails off as she bites her lower lip and moans because Tissaia has caught hold of a corner of the handkerchief and is slowly pulling it through her fly, the fabric unfurling against Yennefer and tracing along her with excruciating delicacy. When the handkerchief is free, rather than discarding it, Tissaia folds it neatly then tucks it into the top of her corset,</p><p>“I am keeping this. I shall wear it and think of you.”</p><p>Yennefer whimpers at the images this conjures as Tissaia hooks her fingers round the waistband of the trousers and pulling them down in one smooth motion. Yennefer cannot help a squeak as her bottom is raised off the chair momentarily to allow the trousers to slip past, Tissaia lifting her as though she weighed nothing.</p><p>“Your stature belies your strength, madam.”</p><p>Tissaia smirks and makes quick work of removing Yennefer’s shoes and gentleman’s drawers until, at last, she is bare and open. Yennefer attempts to close her thighs bashfully but Tissaia leans on them,</p><p>“I would see you, know you as intimately as I come to know a watch, its inner-workings, its parts and its intricacies. Will you allow me this knowledge?”</p><p>Yennefer is powerless against such sincere entreaties so surrenders to the tender and curious touches. Tissaia smiles in wonder as she discovers Yennefer and what makes her run smoothly, what tightens her, tests the balance of her springs and thumbs the jewel that holds her in place. She spreads her wide and runs a finger over the soft folds that remind her of petals, her finger beading with wetness just like the dew on a morning violet. Tissaia sighs,</p><p>“So beautiful, so wonderfully complex, I have never known anything so exquisite. May I kiss you there?”</p><p>Although she has heard of such acts, Tissaia has never tried it herself. Who would she have done so with? But gazing at Yennefer it seems the most natural thing in the world to want to kiss her, to taste her. Yennefer bucks her hips in response, nodding frantically. She growls in frustration however when Tissaia first presses her lips to her ankle.</p><p>“You, madam, are a tease!”</p><p>“A lady’s ankles are quite the scandal in polite company, it would be remiss to ignore such forbidden pleasures.”</p><p>Yennefer glares but softens as Tissaia trails her tongue up her calf, dropping little butterfly kisses down her inner-thigh and sucking here and there, humming in delight.</p><p>“You have no idea what these legs did to me the first time I saw you in trousers, I thought I would faint.” She runs her palm appreciatively up their length, “And your skin, I have wanted to taste it since the moment I saw you.” She leans forward to dart her tongue out against Yennefer’s belly, flicking up to capture a nipple in her mouth, Yennefer writhing and panting beneath her,</p><p>“Tissaia, I beg you! I shall die if you deny me any longer!”</p><p>Tissaia lowers to between her thighs and murmurs, her words reverberating against Yennefer’s core,</p><p>“Is my songbird ready to sing for me then?”</p><p>“Loud enough to drown out whatever fool is caterwauling onstage as we speak, only touch me!”</p><p>Tissaia chuckles and eases Yennefer’s thighs up over her shoulders then bends her head to her folds, keeping her blue eyes locked on their violet counterparts. And such sounds Yennefer makes, enough to bring Tissaia a second release in a sort of sympathy as the woman beneath her arches and clenches, her hands straining so fiercely they rip Tissaia’s stockings and fly down to plunge into her dark hair that fans across Yennefer’s thighs, rippling with the movement of her head as her mouth works. Tissaia does not usually enjoy enclosed spaces or feeling breathless but as Yennefer’s thighs clamp round her head and her eager hands push Tissaia further against her core, she does not mind it. Yennefer fills her every sense and it is intoxicating. As the younger woman peaks, she arches her back and Tissaia groans at the feeling of Yennefer filing her mouth, hot and pulsating, wet and impossibly soft. And when she at last eases back into the chair, going limp, Tissaia pulls her to the floor, wrapping her in her arms and strokes through her black hair.</p><p>“May one assume your needs have been tended to satisfactorily, my dear?”</p><p>“I intend to demonstrate the <em>depth </em>of my satisfaction as soon as the world has stopped spinning and I regain the use of my faculties.”</p><p>Tissaia chuckles and lets her eyes drift shut, “There is no need for haste, we have time.”</p><p>And as they doze off, she can hear the steady tick-tock of a pocket-watch slowing and coming to a halt, its gears needing re-wound. But, for now, she decides to believe that time has stood still for them.</p><p>
  
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